Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

025. Paper Flowers

025. Paper Flowers

At Aquino High, it's never the end.

Friday afternoon, I stake out a position in front of the gym, leaning against the door with my arms crossed. I don't really care who sees me or if Taylor tries to throw me out again—I desperately need to know if my attempts worked and if the meetings are cancelled.

Just as I predicted, Taylor is the first to arrive. He looks at me once but his gaze doesn't stay on me long; instead he shoves open the gym door and steps inside.

"Do you think anyone will show up?" I ask.

He turns towards me and seems to see me for the first time. As his hands dig into the pocket of his jeans he says, "Nobody's quitting just because of your little speech, Erika."

"Really?" I tilt my head in the direction of the empty gym. "It looks like everybody quit to me."

We watch each other for a few moments, a non-verbal face-off. He runs his tongue along the front of his teeth, wetting his lips. I remember kissing those lips just a few short weeks ago.

Everything is different now. I force myself to break our gaze and instead angle back towards the gym. Being the first to look away might be considered a loss, but I'll take it before I do or say something I'll regret.

"Spencer told me you two are going out this weekend," he says finally, stepping closer to me.

"Yeah, we are. I didn't know you two were on speaking terms."

"We won't be after this."

Before I have time to ask what he means, he's closed the distance between us and pressed his lips against mine. It's difficult for me to formulate a coherent thought as a mist of familiarity washes over me—a sense of safety, like I've travelled back to that Monday night when we first kissed.

Our lips move together and I find myself sinking into my arms before I realize: this is Taylor Cunningham. Abruptly, I push him back, causing him to stumble. I open my mouth to yell at him but he's locked eyes with me again.

"Don't say you didn't enjoy that. But don't worry, I won't tell if you don't." He smirks, one side of his mouth higher than the other. "I'd just watch your back if I were you."

You're poison, I want to tell him. But it's addictive, and I need to stay away. I rub my sleeve against my lips, as if that can somehow remove the shadow of his kiss. Tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes again: confused tears, the kind that come whenever I'm torn. I can't deny I felt something, but I also know that I can't afford to be near him anymore.

"Nobody's coming to your little meeting," I tell him, taking another step back just in case he decides to catch me off guard again.

He shrugs. "Guess not. But I've gotten what I wanted."

I don't question him, because engaging him in any more conversation might incite him to kiss me again. Instead I cross my arms and watch as he walks away, pulling out his phone as he does so. A door slams from the gym behind me, startling me, and I whirl around to see who it is. By the time I've turned back, Taylor is gone.

Again, I rub my sleeve over my lips. They still feel warm and I can still taste Taylor on them. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurry over to the water fountain and gulp down water until it drips down my chin. I have to pull myself together.

"Erika?"

I whirl around, raking my hand through my hair. Spencer is standing a few feet away, his car keys dangling from his hand. "Yeah?"